


a consequence of happenstance

by orsaverba



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Bruce, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Established Relationship, Intersex Omega (vague), Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Omega Verse, Pack Dynamics, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Talia's terrible parenting, omega tim, pup damian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27187487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orsaverba/pseuds/orsaverba
Summary: Bruce could be patient. He's had a lifetime of practice.Quietly, so soft it almost went unheard, the pup breathed;"...Mama?"
Relationships: Tim Drake/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 21
Kudos: 222





	a consequence of happenstance

Things--

Things were not well, in the house of Wayne. 

The root of the problem lay deep in the foundations, far beyond the reach of any of them, even their patriarch. Decades upon decades of growth built on uneven soil, their tilted tower too mammoth now to start again. Each new trial they weathered, apart and as a pack, each one faced with the thought that  _ this too shall pass _ .

Bruce pressed his palm to the back of Timothy's neck. The omega beneath him went boneless, the picture of submission. He curled his fingers until they almost met around the front of his throat, the flutter of a rabbit-hearted pulse against his fingertips. 

Tim panted against the silk pillowcase, breaths soft.

Some kind of equilibrium had been reached, or come near enough to being reached that, for once, all had been well. Dick, still in Bludhaven, but returned like clockwork when his rut hit and he couldn't bear to be away from the pack. Jason, his beloved, wayward pup, finally beginning to cock his head up when Bruce drew near. Not in submission, never again, but in deference. Respect. 

Tim, his sweetest,  _ smallest _ Robin, emerging from the shell his parents forced him into as a child. His presentation had been a godsend. The exact kind of equalizing force their pack needed. That  _ Bruce _ needed.

And then.

And  _ then _ .

Damian.

_ Rage _ could not begin to describe his feelings towards Talia. To keep his pup from him, to carve that innocent young life into something so  _ twisted _ \-- To shackle  _ him _ and  _ his pack _ with the responsibility to  _ care _ for the little beast--

Bruce buried his face against the crown of Timothy's head, breathing in his wonderful, cappuccino and winter morning scent. The hand not holding his neck dragged along the silky expanse of his side, feather-light touch guiding the young omega into an arch. 

Tim responded beautifully, pulling his knees up and raising his hips, so  _ happy _ to present himself to his alpha. The softest of whimpers shook his throat, rose petal blush staining his porcelain cheeks. Bruce dragged kisses from his hair to the shell of his ear, against his cheek, below his jaw, nuzzling the swell of his scent gland.

He could still remember how Tim looked as he  _ fell _ .

His son did that. His  _ blood child _ \-- A  _ pup _ . No more than ten, not even presented, and he'd almost--

The growl emanating from him was thunderous, shaking his chest to his bones. Once, the sound made his poor Timothy tense, shrink away from him, whine in fear. It didn't, now. 

Tim was liquid beneath his hands, all sinuous movement as he rolled up, pressed back, arched himself against his alpha's body. His head pitched back, addam's apple pressed against Bruce's fingers, soft mouth open against his jaw. He  _ purred _ , gasped, sighed, and melted back against the mattress when teeth replaced the hand on his neck.

Bruce rocked his hips, rumbling intention against Tim's ear. His omega reached back and helped to guide him to his entrance, delicate hand holding him steady so he could ease his way inside. One day, he would be able to sheathe himself in a single movement, but not tonight. Tim still needed it slow, careful, conscientious. Bruce could do that.

Not for anyone else, but for Tim, he could.

Their coupling was--  _ measured _ . Bruce needed to account for his size, for the breadth of carnal desire tearing at his ribcage, and for the bruises littering his omega's body. Some were fresh, ugly purples and blues, others yellowing. Scabbed lacerations on one thigh. A rib still tender to touch. 

He was never one for ornamental omegas, he'd always wanted an equal. Tim isn't that, not quite yet, but he  _ would be _ .

And he'd been away. Of course he had. After Damian- after the  _ fall _ -he'd left for California, for the Titans. Not permanently, he'd promised as much the day he left, but for the moment. He needed space from the aggressive pup and the pack-- The pack needed to  _ adjust _ .

It should have been adjusting  _ with _ him. Their omega was meant to be their core, the center of their strength, the one they rallied around. None of them handled a  _ pup _ pushing him  _ out _ very well. 

They'd taken it out on each other. On the betas of the pack. On  _ Damian _ . Bruce had to step away himself to regain his perspective. 

" _ Bruce... _ "

Timothy's eyes were glazed, lips wet, parted around his alpha's name. Bruce scraped his teeth over the ridges of his spine, both hands wrapped tight around his trim waist. He lifted him gently, drove a pointed thrust into the slight body, just to feel how he pressed up against his omega's womb.

Tim  _ sobbed _ , twitched and rocked back with needy, desperate noises. Their pace was too slow for how close he teetered on the edge. 

"Relax," Bruce ordered, mouthing the nape of his neck. "Relax for me,  _ omega _ ."

And he did. Warmth flooded the alpha's chest, affection and love so strong it nearly crippled him as Tim simply  _ gave _ . He bore him down against the sheets, pressing their bodies together and sinking his teeth into the curve where his shoulder met his throat. So close to a mating mark, but not quite, not  _ yet _ .

The room was full of nothing but the sound of their bodies joining over and over, and Tim's sweet cries of ecstasy. He muffled himself in the pillows when he came, howling through his teeth and spasming around the cock still gouging into him. The aftershocks almost sent Bruce over the edge, yet he forced himself to hold back, to  _ wait _ .

The last bit of tension left his omega and Bruce, one thick arm curled around his waist, dared to press the girth of his knot against his entrance. He nudged,  _ pressed _ , nuzzling the mark he left on Timothy's neck, until his knot finally eased through the tight ring of muscle and inside his glorious heat.

Tim made a drunken sound. A dry orgasm shook him from head to toe. This time, Bruce allowed the shuddering pulse of his cunt to drag him over the precipice to completion. 

The afterglow was warm and comfortable. Past experience promised that it would be quite a while before his knot shrunk enough to untie them, not that they were in any hurry to pull apart. Tim allowed himself to be eased from his stomach onto his side, Bruce's bulk pressed up against his back. The alpha wrapped him in his arms, curving his body in a protective arc around his smaller half.

Tim purred sweetly, long lashes kissing his cheeks as his eyelids fluttered. 

"Sleep, my love," Bruce murmured to him, lips brushing tenderly against his temple.

There was a low noise from his omega as he drew the comforter over them, all contented softness and lazy smile as he drifted off. 

Minutes ticked by. Bruce watched as Tim's breathing evened out and his body went slack, sleep claiming him for the first time in probably  _ too long _ . Tim had a natural inclination for ignoring his bodily needs, which was no doubt exacerbated by the stress on his pack. It was good to have him home.

Bruce stroked his thumb over the scabs on his thigh, waiting. 

Slowly, the master bedroom door eased open. Just a crack. 

Small fingers curled around the wood. The crack widened and in the space appeared the figure of his son, his ocean-green eyes wide. 

Bruce watched. He refused to hold his breath, to give any sign of his anticipation, but he waited nonetheless. Heart thudding. 

Damian tipped his head up, sniffing. He opened his mouth to taste the air. The hand around the door tightened, brown knuckles almost white with how hard he gripped the wood. 

Whatever confusion the pup felt had already passed. Probably disappeared as he wandered the halls, following his nose towards the scent now occupying him. Maybe there was anger too, revulsion even, because none of those things were present  _ now _ . 

Bruce could be patient. He's had a lifetime of practice. 

Quietly, so soft it almost went unheard, the pup breathed;

"... _ Mama _ ?"

Relief washed cool and balm-like over the ache in Bruce's heart. He rumbled, low and pleased, lifting his hand from under the blankets to thumb the mark on Timothy's neck.

"Yes, pup," he said, quietly. " _ Yes _ ."

"But--" And the confusion was there now, furrowing Damian's brow. He swayed where he stood, wanting both to run away and come closer. 

Bruce could kill Talia al Ghul for what she'd done to his boy.

"Scent blockers," he said instead, and comprehension, followed shortly by horror dawned on his pup's face.

Tim was geared up as Red Robin the night they met. He was prepped to go out and fight, his scent disguised as something unobtrusive, perhaps even  _ beta _ . There was no chance for the smell of omega to calm the furious pup, no natural draw to the pack, as there should have been. 

Damian looked like he wanted to flee. Bruce patted the empty space on the bed in front of Tim.

"Come here."

Damian hesitated. His eyes were afraid. "But, I..."

"He'll forgive you."

"But what if..."

"He will."

Instinct won out over will. Damian rushed forward, scrambling up onto the bed to burrow himself against his new-- his  _ real _ mother's chest. 

Bruce pawed blindly behind himself for another blanket, sure Alfred left one, since Tim tended to get cold at night. He found it after a moment and drew it over himself to wrap around his omega and his son. Damian tucked himself in, visibly careful to leave Tim covered as well.

Bruce dropped his arm over the both of them, drawing them close. 

"Sleep," he instructed his son, as he had his omega a half hour ago. Damian still looked awestruck, nervous, as if he thought this was all going to disappear the second he breathed too loud. But he did as told, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to find rest.

Things were not well in the Wayne house. But they would get better, as they always did, and make the pack stronger for it. Bruce had faith in that. 

**Author's Note:**

> I planned for my first foray into DCU fanfic to be something with significantly more plot than this, yet here I find myself. Regardless! I've had such a wonderful time reading fics this last month that I couldn't wait to start contributing some of my own.
> 
> If you liked what you read, please drop me a comment below!
> 
> And if you'd like to chat, you can always find me on [my Twitter](https://twitter.com/orsaverba)!


End file.
